A house on sand
by AlexisPetrova
Summary: Damon's life suddenly changes for the worse when he gets the news that Stefan has been murdered. He's made it his purpose in life to find the killer and make them pay. But is revenge worth it when the cost is love? Will his thirst for blood be more powerful than this new developing love? AU/AH DELENA -REWRITE FROM MY SHARED STORY BY THE SAME NAME-


CHAPTER 1

The ringing of a phone breaks through the peaceful silence of the warm April night. The air conditioning is turned to its max, trying in vain to alleviate the warmth. The clock reads 3 in the morning.

Damon Salvatore is sleeping soundly on his king-sized bed, still wearing his office clothes, which consist of a black pinstriped, tailored Valentino suit, and a pristine white, body hugging, dress shirt. He'd been so tired when he'd arrived home a few hours ago that he'd just fallen, literally, on the bed. Being CEO of his own company, Salvatore Industries, is a full time job that demands a lot out of him. But it also gives him many gratifications; the joy of having travelled the entire world, for example. However, having such a demanding job also keeps him away from one of the things he enjoys most: women.

Ever since he inherited Salvatore Industries after his father died, he's had so little time to himself, let alone to waste it on women. Before S.I., it was a completely different story; he'd bedded any woman that came within a 20 feet radius; and he made damn sure they enjoyed it. But now, he can't remember the last time he's had sex; he and his right hand have never been closer.

The phone keeps ringing in the darkness of the lonely pent-house, awakening a grumpy Damon. He blinks several times to get rid of the sleepiness of his blue eyes. He makes the way downstairs to the home phone, not looking at the caller I.D. He picks it up and answers.

"What?!" he snaps.

"Damon?" the broken voice of his mother sounds over the phone.

"Mom? What is it? Are you okay?" Damon questions, suddenly alert. He tries to swallow the panic, but it is hard with flashes from the last time his mother called him broken and crying.

"Damon, it's Stefan," she sobs. "He-oh god, I can't believe I am saying this. Damon, Stefan is dead." There it is. Damon Salvatore's life as he knows it is crumbling around him as the news hits him.

It can't be real. It _can't_ be. "Are you sure?" he stutters out. "I mean, it might not be him mom, it could be a mistake, it could be-"

"Damon," his mother cries. "I'm with Althea at the hospital. Sh-she was there. She saw the whole thing. They have Stefan in the morgue and they-" his mother breaks off as powerful sobs rack her body. "They need someone to identify the body," she whispers. "I ca-can't Damon. N-n-not after your father, I-I can't ha-handle it."

"I'll do it," he says gruffly. He feels sick to his stomach. His mother's sobs, his brother's death, the fact that his five year old baby sister has witnessed it; it all nauseates him. "How is Althea?" he whispers.

"She's traumatized. She won't talk, she won't move. She's just sitting there, staring off into space. I don't know what to do, what to say. She's so little, she shouldn't have seen what she saw," his mother whimpers.

Damon's form is shaking in despair and rage. So many emotions are coursing through his veins. "I'll be there soon…after I-" he takes a breath, preparing himself for what he's about to say. "After I identify Stefan's body,"

Damon hangs up the phone and stands there for a second. He's pretty sure his body is going into shock, shutting itself down. He knows, deep down inside, he knows that he can't shut himself down. Quickly rushing to the bathroom he empties the contents of his stomach.

He can't possibly understand why this is happening to him, to his family. They have already gone through this once when his father died almost six years ago. They barely survived the trauma of losing Giuseppe and Damon was positive that the only reason they did survive was because a few weeks after they buried his father six feet under, his mother found out she was pregnant. It was unplanned and it took everyone by surprise. It was a hard thing to swallow, being pregnant again only this time having to go through it alone, the fact that this baby would never know its father.

His mother played with the idea of adoption, knowing that it would be too hard, but the second the tiny pink bundle was placed in her arms she knew that is wasn't a mistake, it was a miracle. _She_ was a miracle.

This time around there would be no miracle, just his brother's cold and lifeless body on the slab in the morgue.

...

"Damon Salvatore?" a man in a white lab coat calls for him, and motions to follow him. "My name is Dr. Sullivan"

Damon feels a numbness consume him as he walks down the empty halls to the morgue. The walls are white, the temperature of the area is freezing, and it is quiet. It is exactly what you would imagine the halls leading to a room full of bodies would look like.

Damon remembers the incident all those years ago. When his father died, it had been similar to this. They had been called to come to the station, and his mother had had to identify his body; when she came back from the morgue, she'd never been the same. Gone was the light-spirited woman that made jokes out of everything, whose light brightened the lives of everyone that knew her. From then on, she was a distant shell of the woman she once was. Her love for life had gone along with Giuseppe.

Now, almost six years later he's in the same position his mother had been in. He tries to prepare himself for what he was about to see, but how could you prepare yourself for something so horrible?

They walk for ages, or so it feels for Damon, until they come face to face with a double door. 'Morgue' is written on them. They go inside and his body is frozen, he can't move a muscle, and it doesn't have anything to do with the temperature in the room. In the center of the room, there's a metal bed, a corpse laid on it, and a white sheet is covering it from head to toe. That's the moment when everything becomes real. Up until then, he was somehow hoping it was some kind of weird dream that he'd wake up from at any minute, and find out it all had been nothing but a horrible nightmare, but seeing that dead body lying there before his eyes, it makes it _real_. Then, he knows it's not a nightmare he can wake up from; his baby brother is really dead.

Dr. Sullivan pulls the sheet down revealing his brother's face. Damon chokes back a sob a he takes in his brother's appearance. His face is relaxed, almost peaceful. It looks like he's sleeping, as fucked up as that sounds. He's pale and his lips are turning a purplish blue color.

The mortician starts stating facts.

"Time of death: 23:22. Cause of death: gunshot through temporal bone. Body shows signs of a physical fight with attacker. Gun was fired within a short distance…" he keeps talking but only one thing was registering in Damon's mind.

Stefan is dead.

...

Damon can't breathe, he can't think. How could this happen? How can his baby brother be dead? He had barely begun to live! He was only 24 years old… As the initial panic begins to subside, the anger starts to rise. Someone murdered his brother. He doesn't know why, nor does he care. He wants revenge. He wants to find the person responsible for this and make them pay. _And he will._

He takes a calming breath before slipping into the hospital room. His mother's sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed. She's holding his little sisters hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it with her thumb.

"Damon," he mother says hoarsely. Althea looks at him, more like looks _through_ him. The fear in her eyes makes him nauseous again. He quickly swallows that feeling and rushes over to the bed, picking his sister up, and holding her close. He squeezes his eyes shut, holding back the tears as he holds her close. He can feel her shaking as the tiny sobs rack her body.

"I've got you baby girl," he whispers. "No one will ever hurt you again, I promise." _I promise to find the bastard he did this and make them pay_, he thinks.

Damon sits on the hospital bed and begins to rock his sister back and forth, quietly shushing her. He hates that she's so upset, he hates that she had to witness it, and he hates the effect it had on her. If he can't find Stefan's murderer for him, he'll sure as hell find them for putting his sister through what she went through tonight.

_I'm going to find you, and when I do, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. I'm not going to rest until I have destroyed you, just like you destroyed my family. And I'm not going to show you mercy, just like you didn't show mercy to my brother._

...

On the opposite side Manhattan, a black SUV pulls in front of an old, slightly run down bar. "Take it around the block, Wes," a voice in the back of the SUV orders. "I'll call you when I am ready." And with that, the figure slips out of the SUV and heads into the bar.

The owner nods as the figure, dressed solely in black, slips into their normal seat at the bar. "The usual, Black?" the bartender asks. He doesn't know much about the mysterious person that's in his bar at this time of night on a regular basis. All he does know is that they always leave a generous tip, and _always_ wore black, which is where the nickname came from.

"Yes," Black replies simply while slipping out the phone from the pocket of the hoodie they are wearing. Dialing the number quickly, Black waits for the person to answer.

"How did it go?" a gruff voice requires.

"That depends on how you view the outcome," Black replies. "Upside is that Stefan Salvatore will no longer be a problem since he is no longer breathing. Downside is that I had to get my hands messy and you know how much I hate getting my hands messy," Black elaborates.

"I'll have the boys clean it up," the man replies.

"Too late. I wasn't expecting this meeting to go down the way it did. He caught me off guard and we weren't quiet; although I did use a silencer. The neighbors must have called the police. I heard the sirens as I left."

"Nothing much we can do now."

"Nope. The only thing is that there was a little girl there. I don't think she saw my face though".

"There was a witness? Why didn't you take care of it?"

"I wasn't about to take out a five year old," Black snaps. "Don't question my judgment. What's done is done." Without waiting for a reply, Black hangs up the phone.

Quickly downing the Armagnac and tossing some money on the bar, Black slips out of the bar and back into the black SUV. Within seconds, Black and the SUV disappear within the darkness of the night, leaving no traces to follow. It's almost as if they were never there.

...

Next morning comes, and sees Damon at his penthouse. Holding his sister under one arm, and his mother's hand with his free one. They are both asleep, but he's been unable to shut his eyes. He hasn't even blinked once since he saw Stefan's corpse.

His conflicting thoughts will not let him concentrate on anything else but avenging Stefan's _unfair_ death.

However, as the night progresses, it comes to the front of his mind how his little sister, his _princess_, had been forced to witness such atrocity as the murder of her brother, _Teff_.

The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets, more murderous his thoughts become. Althea didn't use to spend a lot of time with Stefan, and on the day they got to interact and spend time together, tragedy strikes.

Damon can't wipe from his mind what that scene must have looked like to a five-year-old. Just thinking about the trauma it must have been for her is enough to push aside his murderous thoughts. For the time being, his only worry will be to take care of his family. His loving mother, who'd never done anything to deserve what she'd been put through; and his baby, who had never even killed a fly, whose heart was the purest, and noblest he knew. His family is the most important thing at the moment, and the only thing he has left. Pay back can wait a little longer. After all, they do say: "revenge is a dish best served cold".

The land line rings, and Damon's whole body tenses. The last time the phone had rung, he'd gotten terrible news. He, as carefully as he can, disentangles his arms from his mother and sister and goes to answer the call. He's reluctant, but picks up the receiver, nonetheless.

"Mr. Salvatore" says a gruff voice into Damon's ear. "This is detective Saltzman, NYPD"

"What is it?" Damon can't help but snap at the detective.

"It's best if you come down to the station. We have a few matters to discuss" Saltzman speaks calmly.

"Have you found my brother's killer?" at the silence, Damon continues: "Otherwise I don't know what other matters you and I have to discuss"

"It is related to your brother, yes. I need to ask you a few questions, and it needs to be today. Every second counts." The detective's voice turns acid.

"Fine. I'll be there at noon" Damon snaps and hangs up.

...

Only after he's showered, and put on one of his typical suits, does Damon make his way downstairs; stopping only to write a short note for his mother, explaining about his rendezvous.

He's in quite a hurry, as he needs to get to the station and get the new information as soon as possible. Sooner. When he gets to the front door to the building, his car is already running, waiting for him. He gets in immediately, and takes off like a bat out of hell.

Had he been a minute longer, he would have seen the black SUV arriving at the curb, and the figure wearing a black coat that gets inside his own building.

...

Black looks out of the building's glass walls as the black Ferrari pulls out and blends among the hundreds of other cars, a smirk making its appearance.

"Here, boss, your keys" the driver says extending his hand over for Black to take the item out of it. "Nice complex you picked".

"Thank you, Wes" the driver gets a mischievous smirk in return. "I am quite looking forward to making acquaintance with my new neighbors, especially the one in the penthouse".

Wes stares as his boss walks over to the elevator, presses the button and disappears behind the marble covered doors.

...

An hour later, Damon arrives at the police station. There's a tall man waiting for him behind a desk when he's ushered into an office. He has dark blond hair, and has his back turned to Damon, picking up a fax from the fax machine in the corner of the office.

"Mr. Salvatore" Detective Saltzman turns around and offers hid hand for Damon to shake. Damon does, a lot firmer than it's polite. Saltzman smirks at him and sits in his chair, motions for Damon to do the same.

"Go to the point" Damon tells him, not in the mood to wait for bullshit. Saltzman's smirk only widens. After a moment, however, his face turns serious.

"Last night, around 11:30, some of your brother's neighbors heard fighting, yelling, and things breaking. They called the police, but by the time they got there, it was too late. He was shot in the head, and died instantly. The apartment was a mess when the police got there; there had obviously been a struggle. Stefan fought for his life, but the attacker got the jump on him."

"What are you doing to find the bastard?"

"Our best agents, and crime detectives have inspected the crime scene. So far, nothing. No signs of a forced entry, no fingerprints, no DNA. If it weren't for the struggle marks on Stefan's… body, and the messed furniture, everything would point out to a suicide. Looks like this person knew what they were doing. However, I just received a fax, from my IT team. They've been going through the surveillance cameras all night long; they hadn't found anything yet, until a few minutes ago. They want us both to go to their department and see for ourselves what they've found.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Damon stands up and makes for the door, Saltzman follows.

...

"We have been going through the security feeds all night." One of Saltzman's men says, not looking away from the computer screen in front of him. "There's a gap in all the cameras on Mr. Salvatore's floor, between 11:18 and 11:30 am. That means, whoever did it had to have had access to the building's security."

"How does that tell us who killed him?" Damon spits through gritted teeth. Saltzman walks out of the tiny office, phone in hand, and a stern look on his face.

"Detective Saltzman is seeing to all security staff being interrogated. That could give us a lead." IT guy turns to look at Damon, eyes bright with excitement. The detective returns to the office, and Slater's eyes, that's what the guy said his name was, snap back to the screen. "Anyway, that's not why I brought you here. Like I told you, all the cameras on the floor were down. We tried other floors, and the cameras had been turned off too. But then, this morning, when we were going through the staff back entrance, the camera caught this." He hits a button and a soundless video starts to play.

Damon and Saltzman stare at it, but all it shows is a gray door, which staff uses to enter. After a minute of nothing, the lights on the back of the building shuts down, and a suspicious looking SUV pulls up in front of the door, black tinted windows, and no plates. Seconds later, the door to the building opens.

Damon stares at the screen more intensely, but the only thing he can see is a shadow, which he would've missed if he hadn't been so focused studying every last detail. The black figure moves in the dark like it belongs there, like it's in its element.

"We tried to track down the SUV with the help of traffic cameras, but we were only able to do so for a few blocks. Then, nothing. It was like it disappeared into thin air."

"Well, that's helpful" Damon snaps, his eyes are angry, Slater looks truly scared. Saltzman is not impressed.

"Contrary to what you might think, it _is_ helpful. Now traffic cops have been alerted, and ordered to pull over any car that matches the description… In the meantime, I would highly suggest you hire private security. You can never be too cautious."

"Thank you, Sherlock. How did I not think of that?" sarcasm drips out of Damon's voice. He turns on his heels and makes for the door, he needs to get out of there. He doesn't know what he was expecting. '_Were you expecting to find all the answers? Did you think it would be so easy?_' his mental voice snaps. Whatever he was expecting, it had not been this. He has so many questions, and he can't find answers to any of them. It feels like questions are piling up on him, and he's drowning in them.

Just as he's about to walk out of the station, he feels a hand on his shoulder halting his steps. He looks over his shoulder to look at Alaric Saltzman's serious face.

"We are gonna find them. Your brother's killer will not get away with this."

"Instead of making empty promises, why don't you get back o work?" Damon snaps, taking the hand off his shoulder. He walks to his car, and slams the door shut. Once inside, he feels something inside him snap. Ever since he found out about Stefan, he hadn't had the chance to truly process what's going on. He's been so busy, trying to be strong for his mother and sister that he hasn't had time to start mourning the loss of his little bro. It doesn't kick in till that moment, isolated within his car. Stefan is gone.

Gone.

Dead.

Killed.

The pain consumes him in that moment, everything he hasn't allowed himself to feel since that call, came rushing out. He feels a wet trail on his cheek as tears continue to shed unbidden.

His chest is heaving, and it feels like he has a weight pressing down on his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He hears more than he feels the sobs wrecking his body, shaking him from head to toe.

He cries for the loss his brother; that boy that looked up to him growing up; the boy who once was his best friend, in whom Damon put all his trust. The boy, whose life was taken from him too early, when there was still so much to be lived, so many experiences he'll never get to have. So many moments that were taken from his family.

He also cries for his little sister, his princess, his baby. She should have never been put through that. The gruesome sight of some sick bastard killing your flesh and blood before your own eyes. The image of little Althea, curled up in a corner, crying out for "D", feeling helpless as she sees Stefan lifeless body on the floor. He tries to push it away, but he can't. His little warrior has never had it easy in life, having to grow old without a father –even though he has always been like a dad to her, it's not the same-. She has never even killed a fly. She shouldn't have seen what she saw.

He cries for his mom. He cannot imagine what it must be like to have your spouse killed, and then your _child_. She's always been so strong, but he's afraid she might not be strong enough to stand their loss. Damon _must_ be strong for her, put on his big boy pants and let her break down while he shoulders the pain. And then, only when he's alone can he allow the despair to consume him whole.

And he cries for himself. Because even though his relationship with Stefan had been on shaky ground for the last couple months, he still loved his brother, and would have given up his own life for Stefan's

When the sobs stop, and the tears have slowed, he finally starts the car. He pulls out of the parking lot, carefully, and drives home.

...

When Damon reenters his apartment complex, he can't help but feel that something's shifted. There's a dreadful feeling that something is not right, He can't explain it, so he pays it no mind and continues to walk over to the lifts. The concierge calls out his name though, so he turns back his head and arches a brow in question. When the concierge reaches Damon, he hands him a fancy-looking envelope, there's a wax seal stamp on the back, on the front there's only _Damon Salvatore_ in equally fancy handwriting.

"What is this?" Damon demands, eyeing the item carefully.

"I would not know, Mr. Salvatore. It has just been dropped off at the front desk for you. No remitter" he provides politely.

"Who left it?"

"They gave no name. I only know what I saw. It was a beautiful woman. Something seemed off about her though. She was wearing dark sunglasses, _inside_, and a scarf that covered up to her chin. Not to mention the black hat. What's up with that?"

"Thank you, Jesse." Damon stops him before he could start babbling. He puts the envelope on the inside pocket of his jacket, calls for the elevator and makes the journey up. He can't deny he's intrigued about the mysterious mail he just got, and even a little overwhelmed. He can feel it in his bones that this piece of paper is somehow connected to Stefan's murderer, he just _knows _it.

When he opens the door to his apartment, he expects to see his mother and sister. But what he finds is a note explaining that they've gone out to eat. He panics a little about their safety, but his mother writes that they just went to the little café turning the corner.

He walks into his room, and shreds his clothes deciding that he needs a bath after the long, stressing, emotionally-tiring day he had. When his jacket lands on the floor, his little package gets out of the pocket and he can see the corner of it poking out from underneath the fabric.

Reluctantly, he picks and it and breaks the wax seal. He doesn't realize until he sees that his hands are trembling a little, and he's holding his breath. He takes a big breath through his nose, feels his lungs expand. And begins reading the words that were meant for him, from his brother murder. Once he finishes, he clenches the paper in his hands and rips it apart, taking all his anger out on it. He's seeing red, and if he wasn't convinced before, now finding his brother murderer has become his _raison d'être._

...

_Most dear Mr. Salvatore,_

_The reason I'm writing this letter is because I've been watching you. I know you want to find all the answers and solve the little puzzle of who I am. I can't blame you, not really. But I can assure you that you'll never get those answers. Unless, of course, _I_ want you to. I promise you that one day we will come face to face. That day, however, is not today._

_In the meantime, I have one little advice for you: don't go looking for trouble you're not capable of handling. Stop searching for me. I would hate for your mother to have a similar fate as Stefan's._

_Do NOT try to find me, for you will never succeed. I have many faces, and sometimes not even I know which one is the right one._

_Regards,_

_Black._

* * *

"_While all deception requires secrecy, all secrecy is not meant to deceive."_

_-Sissela Bok_

* * *

**A/N!**

**Hey guys!**

**This is Alexis. Only to inform you that I'm taking over this shared story, and that after much revising I've decided to change a few plot lines to fit best in here.**

**I would love to hear your opinion on this one. Bear in mind that this has not been edited or proof-read. This is kind of a draft which will serve as a kind of poll to evaluate whether or not I should invest so much of my time developing this.**

**Elena will be introduced later on the plot, don't worry.**

**Any feedback is welcome.**

**Feel free to speculate about Black ;)**


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